


Bring Me Home Again

by srmiller



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Bellarke, Gen, all the delinquents are alive, but also something is very very wrong, canon compliant up to 3x15, everyone is happy, general interactions, my version of how i'd write clarke in the city of light storyline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-18
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-06-09 07:43:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6895999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/srmiller/pseuds/srmiller
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke wakes up to her alarm on the Ark and can't help but be shaken by a dream she can't quite remember. She'd been on the ground, running with sunlight on her face and while she'd been prepared to write it off as a strange night of sleep the hallucination of a surly man following her around tells her something else is going on. Either she's crazy or something is very, very wrong</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The alarm went off and finally broke through the haze of Clarke’s sleep, pulling her out of the already fading dream back to her bedroom in the Ark.

Reaching out, she swiped her finger across the tablet to silence the beeping and buried her face in her pillow, trying to remember what she’d been dreaming about.

Something green and bright and terrible.

She shivered as she remembered running but she couldn’t recall what she’d been running from, or to. Clarke closed her eyes and thought she’d been on Earth in the dream, laughing and then crying.

If she closed her eyes tightly enough she thought she could remember what the sunlight had felt like on her skin which was crazy because she’d never had the sun on her face, no one on the Ark had, at least not unless it was through a three inch, air tight glass.

Pushing herself off her bed she dragged herself to her closet and started when she saw fresh tears on her face.

**_It’s not real, Clarke._ **

She remembered the voice from the dream, but couldn’t place the context. Had it been a nightmare? Is that why she felt tense and sore and so desperately alone she could all but feel the craving for human contact under her skin?

Either way, it must have been emotional to get her to cry in her sleep.

She used the sleeve of her shirt to scrub her face till the remnants of the tears were gone and determined not to give the dream another thought pulled out a fresh t-shirt and the pants she’d worn a few days before but was startled by the sounds of someone arguing.

Pausing, she tried to figure out where it was coming from but on the Ark it was often difficult to know for certain because sounds could carry from one end of the ship to the other through the vents. But since didn’t sound like it was her parents she ignored it and finished getting dressed.

Opening the door from her bedroom to the main living area she shared with her parents Clarke saw her dad standing at the counter eating one of the dry rations while reading something on his tablet. Her heart filled with so much relief it was almost painful.

_He was alive._

Of course he was alive, Clarke scolded herself. Why wouldn’t he be? Something from the dream, she thought with more than a little irritation, and pressed a hand to her heart in hopes of relieving the ache inside of it, to keep herself from running to her dad and wrapping her arms around him to breathe in his scent one more time.

Maybe she was getting sick, that might explain the dream and the weird influx of emotions.

“Hey, kid. I thought you were interning with your mom today.”

“I am,” Clarke replied through a dry throat. “I’m getting ready to head out now.”

“No time for food?” he asked and she tried not to smile at the dad-voice and the dad-look of concern, tried not to think about why it felt as if it had been forever since she’d heard it.

“I’ll grab a protein bar,” she assured him. Reaching into the one of cupboards she pulled out what was supposed to be a strawberry flavored meal but since she’d never actually had a strawberry she didn’t know how close it was to the real thing.

No one did.

But as she thought about the seeded fruit, red and ripe, she could almost taste the sweetness on her tongue and the juice falling from the corner of her mouth.

It was unlike anything she could remember eating, flavor unlike anything she’d had on the Ark.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” Clarke shook her head. “I just had a weird dream last and I didn’t get much sleep.”

“Are you okay to work?”

“I think so,” she assured him and put the bar back. She no longer had any interest in the dense, pre-packaged meal. “Are you working today?”

“Yeah, I need to look at the ventilation systems in the mech station.”

Clarke smiled at the thought of her friends. “You’re going to have to fight Wick and Raven off as soon as you get there.”

Her father sighed dramatically. “I’m aware. Any chance you can call your friends off?”

“I have to pick my battles with them,” Clarke apologized. “You’re on your own.”

“You won’t even defend your own father?” he asked, pressing a hand to his heart as if he was devastated by this revelation.

“I think you can defend yourself.”

“I’m an old man,” he reminded her. “I could drop dead any second.”

Clarke’s heart stopped, her breath catching and clogging in her lungs. Grief, overwhelming and deep enough to drown in stunned her.

“Don’t say that,” she warned.

He blinked and seemed to notice she was no longer laughing and rested a hand on her shoulder. “Hey, kid. I’m not going anywhere anytime soon, I promise.”

Clarke nodded and blinked back the unexpected and unwanted tears. “Just don’t joke about that, okay?”

“Okay.” He pressed a hand to her forehead, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” she lied. “I have to get to the med bay, I’ll see you later.”

He waved her off but she didn’t miss the look of concern still on his face as she shut the door behind her. Not that she blamed him, she was a little concerned with her state of mind as well but she had a job to do and her mother would make a fuss if she called in sick simply because of a bad night of sleep.

Walking through the Ark was familiar, the cool walls, the constant echo of people walking and it was the familiarity of it which soothed her emotions and calmed her nerves. When she walked into the medical center she was grateful it seemed to be a quiet day. If she could get through the next four hours without anything major happening she could slip back to her bunk and get some rest and hopefully forget about the very strange dream.

As she walked into med bay she turned at the sound of someone calling her.

“Yo! Clarke!”

She saw two boys sitting on the chairs against the wall. One a little taller, and lanky with it, the other Asian with hair falling over his forehead as he held a piece of cloth to his arm.

She’d…gone to school with them? Right? The memories were fuzzy, but she was pretty sure she remembered them always hanging around each other with…she wanted to say there was a third person who formed the last triangle of their trio but Clarke couldn’t remember her name or her face.

And just like that the hazy memories cleared and she could clearly recall the boys in the back of the schoolroom laughing and making jokes, passing around badly drawn cartoons making fun of the teachers and the chancellor. They were the kind of people who could make you laugh no matter the circumstances and would happily die for one another. “Do I even want to know how you did this?”

The boys grinned at each other. “Discretion is the better part of valor,” Monty quoted with a grin.

“And also keeps us from being arrested,” Jasper added helpfully. “He’s not going to lose his arm is he?”

Monty blanched while Clarke rolled her eyes, lifting away the bandage to see what was beneath it. “Surprisingly enough, a small burn on someone’s arm is not reason enough for amputation. I might make an exception for you though.”

“Rude,” Jasper muttered as Monty laughed.

Clarke moved her neck and shoulders, could feel the tingling sensation at the base of her neck like someone was watching her. Looking up she caught an unfamiliar face standing near the entrance to the clinic staring at her.

His hair was slicked back and even though he wore a guard’s uniform it didn’t look like he was comfortable in it. The jacket was undone and looked to be slightly too narrow for his shoulders, he wore scuffed worker’s boots instead of the spit-shined black boots the guards always wore.

Even off duty a guard couldn’t get away with looking like that. Turning to her friends she nodded towards the doorway, “Do you know who the guy is over there?”

Both boys turned their heads and Monty hunched into his shoulders while Jasper grinned. “Average height, dark and handsome? That’s Nathan Miller, Monty has a crush on him.”

Well, Clarke wouldn’t have called him dark by any means but as Monty shoved his friend he snuck a peak over his shoulder. Drawing Clarke’s attention back to the doorway she saw there were now two guys standing near the door.

The guy she’d originally seen was now joined by another guard who was up to code and definitely fit the description of dark, and yes, objectively he was attractive, but Clarke was more interested in the man who was glowering at the room in general as if it had just questioned his manhood.

“I was talking about-“

“The guard,” Jasper interrupted with a nod as if that clarified things. “Monty has basically turned to the dark side.”

“You don’t even know him,” Monty pointed out.

“Neither do you because you can’t get the nerve to talk to him.”

Standing up, Monty braced his shoulders as Jasper’s eyes narrowed in suspicion and it wasn’t until he started walking away Clarke understood what he was going to do.

She hadn’t even finished inspecting the burn on his arm.

Jasper snickered as Monty made his way across the room. “It’s like he’s going to do battle or something.”

“It’s sweet,” Clarke argued but kept an eye on the taller man who stood with his back straight and fists clenched like he was prepared to get in a fight and Monty must be really into this Miller guy because it was like the other man wasn’t even there.

And when she met his eyes across the room his lips shifted into a kind of rude smile, condescending and arrogant, but before she could think to be irritated, he vanished.

From one blink to the next, he was gone.

“What the hell?”

“I know, right?” Jasper grinned. “I can’t believe Monty’s actually talking to him. I totally lost that bet with myself.”

And because Jasper was still talking about his friend’s crush it was painfully obvious he hadn’t seen what she had. A guard disappearing into thin air like magic.

Touching a hand to her forehead she wondered if it was possible to have a fever hot enough she’d started to hallucinate without realizing it.

“I need to finish his bandage,” Clarke told Jasper lamely.

“Monty’s got the dude smiling, I don’t think he’s coming back anytime soon.”

Moving back to one of the beds Clarke gathered up burn cream and fresh gauze before coming back to Jasper who still sat in the chair watching his friend like it was the most interesting movie he’d ever seen. “Jasper, have him put this on the burn twice a day when he puts on new bandages and make sure he keeps his arm dry and clean for the next few days. If he has any pain tell him to come back and see me.”

Jasper nodded and carefully tucked the little package into his pocket. “How long do you think he’s going to be talking to this guy?”

“I don’t know, but feel free to make yourself comfortable.”

When he nodded and leaned back in the chair, looking as if he was prepared to just take a nap in the med bay, Clarke walked towards the back of the room where mother was at her desk working on something which had her frowning slightly.

“Mom?”

Abby looked away from the screen and pursed her lips when her eyes landed on her daughter. “Are you okay?”

“No. I think I might sleep deprived.”

“You’re not getting sick, are you?”

The concern in her voice was warranted, on the Ark if one person got sick it meant the entire ship’s population would get sick within weeks. It was the biggest downside to the ventilation which kept them all alive.

“I’m not sure. I think I just didn’t get enough sleep last night and I skipped breakfast. On the off chance I’ve got something I don’t want to risk spreading it.”

Abby nodded but stood up to check her daughter’s temperature with the back of her hand. “That’s smart, but you don’t have a fever. Why don’t you head home and I’ll have Dad come check on you in a little while?”

Clarke shook her head, she just wanted sleep. Wanted the feeling something was off to go away. “It’s not that bad, I don’t want to bug him at work. I’ll see you guys later.”

“Okay, if you need anything page me?”

Nodding, she walked away feeling like her skin was too tight and her head was too full and weirdly she thought at any moment she might break down and start crying.

“You’re not going to break down or anything are you?”

Clarke started at the sound of a male voice coming from her right and saw, once again, the guard who wasn’t a guard. He was walking beside her and she could see the shirt he wore beneath his jacket was clearly not guard issued. It was dark grey instead of the black all the guards wore, and his pants looked too big around his waist.

“See anything you like, princess?”

Something about the nickname sounded familiar, but she couldn’t remember ever having been called princess before. There was an ache at the word somewhere in the vicinity of her heart.

Ignoring him she walked down the halls but he seemed to content to walk beside her, matching his stride to hers until she reached her family’s bunks. He stopped outside the door and she didn’t spare him a second glance as she went inside, not bothering to invite him in.

Which apparently didn’t seem to matter because when she turned around after locking the door he was already standing in the middle of the room.

“You’re not real.”

He looked down at himself, moving his arms and legs before poking himself. “Could have fooled me.”

Pushing her braid back over her shoulder she wondered if this was all in her head or if she was literally talking out loud to an empty room. “Go away.”

“Can’t. Nowhere else to go right now.” He smirked which twisted something inside her, “Besides, you know you’d miss me if I left.”

Frustrated with herself and her subconscious she moved towards her bedroom and though she couldn’t hear the sound of boots walking across floor she could all but feel him following her, “If I was going to hallucinate some random guy why couldn’t I have hallucinated one who isn’t an ass?”

He was already in the room when she was walked in, leaning against the wall. “Good question.”

She stared at him for ten seconds, his expression all innocence, before she sighed. “Well?”

“Well what?”

“Why am I hallucinating a condescending, arrogant a-hole?”

He shrugged as if it didn’t matter to him one way or the other. “I don’t know, apparently I’m just the hallucination.”

She was irritated he was so offended at being a hallucination and that sent her into a spiral of why would she hallucinate someone who was offended at being a hallucination and now her head hurt.

Closing her eyes, she laid back on her bed, hoping the guy would go away on his own but instead she heard his voice like he was whispering in her ear. In an instant it had gone from amused to pleading, almost desperate.

**“Come back to me, Clarke.”**

She could feel him next to her, feel his arm pressed against hers as he held her hand with both of his. There was the press of his lips against the back of her hand and she wanted to open her eyes, to follow the voice back to wherever it had come from but she couldn’t.

**“If you can hear me, squeeze my hand.”**

She tried, but she had no control of her limbs. It was like being stuck in a dream with no way to wake up, and she needed to wake up, but she couldn’t remember which was real. Was it the Ark with its metal hallways the dream or was it the voice, which she connected with the rain and the sun and the wild? So intimate and familiar as it begged her to come back it made her heart ache.

She wanted to follow the voice back to where it had come from. To whomever it had come from.

_Bellamy._

The name flashed in her mind like an old memory and she desperately tried to hold onto it even as the pressure on her hand began to fade and the humid air she’d breathed into her lung was replaced by the artificial warmth of the Ark’s air circulation.

She tried to reach out, to find the hand, to squeeze it like the voice had asked but he was gone.

When she opened her eyes, the room was empty.

There was no man with a smirk in the corner, no one at her bedside sitting close enough she could feel their breath on her skin.

She was alone.

“It was just a dream.”

But it hadn’t felt like one, it had felt as real as the bed beneath her.

“Bellamy,” she remembered, and while the name felt familiar on her tongue the sudden ache in her heart, so painful and hard it felt like grief, caught her by surprise.

“Bellamy,” she said again and wondered why the name made her want to cry.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke isn't sure what's going on but she suspects her hallucination has a name, and was someone she might have known, and if she finds out who he was he might be the answer to questions she doesn't even know to ask

When Clarke woke she instantly felt better, she’d dropped into a deep and dreamless sleep and she chose to believe whatever had been affecting her earlier was over and gone. The note she’d woken up to told her both her parents had checked in on her but finding her passed out in her room had left her alone and told her to find them for dinner if she was up.

Surprised she’d slept through the entire day Clarke walked into the mess hall and found her parents, assured them she was feeling much better and asked if it was okay if she joined her friends for dinner. When they assured her it was fine Clarke got food and slid into the seat across from Raven.

They at least wouldn’t spend the entire meal studying her to see if she actually was feeling better, or trying to diagnose her from across the table. “Is your leg feeling better?”

“Feeling better?” Raven asked, seemingly surprised by the question.

“Did you hurt yourself,” Wick asked from his spot pressed against Raven’s side.

“Not recently. You feeling okay, Griffin?”

Clarke sighed, and couldn’t remember why she’d thought Raven would be dealing with a hurt leg and a limp. Maybe she wasn’t as okay as she’d thought. “No. I had a seriously weird dream last night and I think I’m suffering from sleep deprivation and possibly going crazy.”

“Going crazy’s fun,” Wick assured her. “I highly recommend it.”

Raven mostly ignored her boyfriend but Clarke saw the brief lift of an affectionate smile. “Is everything okay? What was the dream about?”

“I don’t really remember, which is the worst part. I think I was on the ground? Running. I remember running and then there was-“

He was back.

The man from earlier was now standing in the middle of the room but no one seemed to notice him as he stood with his arms crossed over a now blue shirt _(naturally, somewhere along the way her hallucination had changed shirts)_ , a gun tucked into the waist band of his pants.

He stared at her like he was angry with her and there was some heat inside her which wanted to stand up and fight him.

“There was what?” Wick prompted when Clarke cut herself off.

She shook her head and focused back on the actual living, real people in front of her. “There was someone. I was running towards them and I was happy and I can’t for life of me figure out who it was.”

“It wasn’t Finn?”

Clarke’s eyes slid back to Raven, “No. Whoever it was, he was taller.” She studied the brooding man who was rolling his shoulders and looking around the room as if he was on guard duty, waiting for the worst to happen. “He had dark hair, I think. Curly. I remember it brushing against my cheek.”

“That’s a pretty detailed memory for a dream you can’t remember.”

“But I can’t picture where it happened,” Clarke insisted and it was driving her crazy. “Like what was around me and he seemed familiar but I can’t remember ever seeing him before.”

“You probably haven't,” Wick informed her around a bite of food. “You know there’s a theory the people you dream about are people are collections of faces you've seen.”

“So it’s not someone on the Ark?” Clarke asked, disbelieving because the man who she suspected had been the man in her dream was standing not five feet away from her, glaring, but apparently no one else could see him.

Why the hell was he glaring?

_Chill out, you’re not even real._

He scoffed.

Now she just wanted to punch him in the face.

A hallucination, she reminded herself. She wanted to punch a hallucination in the face because he was scoffing at her.

“Probably not. But you’re an artist,” he reminded her. “Draw his face, ask around.”

“You want her to go around asking people if they’ve seen a guy she saw in a dream?” Raven asked, clearly unimpressed with Wick’s suggestion.

“If you’ve got a better idea, by all means, share with the class.”

“It was just a dream,” Raven replied. “Don’t worry about it Clarke, I doubt it meant anything.”

“Yeah, it was just weird.”

“Anything else you remember?”

Clarke tried to recall any more details, but she didn’t feel comfortable telling Raven about the screams she’d heard-screams she suspected had been her own-the loneliness, the hope. The feel of rain on her skin.

She shook her head, “No. As soon as I woke up it all started to fade.”

**“It’s not real, Clarke.”**

Looking up at the voice from the dream she saw the man was gone, her hallucination had disappeared and panic was as real as the fork in her hand.

What wasn’t real?

“Are you okay?” Raven asked. “You went pale there for a second.”

“No, I’m good.” She forced a smile which must have convinced her friends because they started talking about upgrades they were working on, arguing and swiping at each other in way which was familiar to Clarke by now.

After Finn had broken up with Raven so he could pursue Clarke Raven had closed herself off to just about anyone who tried to get close. But Wick had been stubborn, and more importantly, he’d been patient. Eventually Raven allowed Wick into her small circle of people she trusted and when Finn had-

What had he done? He’d hurt her, Clarke remembered, but couldn’t remember how. He’d hurt her and Clarke had walked away and found herself as one of Raven’s unlikeliest of friends.

But it was wrong, there was something missing here at the table. _Someone_ missing.

She looked where the man had stood and the name Bellamy beat against her ribs in time with her heartbeat and she thought about pushing it aside but instead she focused on the name instead.

There were bursts of images from the dream, his face brightly lit from the sun with freckles flashing on his cheeks, another of him looking at her over the flicker of a fire as if he’d just been betrayed.

She could draw it, she thought, she could draw his face because she somehow knew it intimately.

Maybe Wick was wrong and she had known him, seen him in the halls, passing by in a guard’s uniform or the coveralls of a janitor. Someone she didn’t see because they were always there.

She could look up the name in the computers she realized. The servers kept all the names of the citizens saved in a database going back decades, if she was right about his name she could do a search easily enough.

She’d have answers.

Standing up she picked up her tray to toss the leftovers. “You know what guys, I need to take care of something.”

Raven reached out and Clarke’s arm, “What?”

“Don’t worry about it, just something I forgot to do earlier while I was sleeping.”

But Raven’s hand on her arm didn’t loosen, her fingers stayed tight around Clarke’s arm. “I can come with. Keep you company.”

“No,” Clarke assured her friend and could all but hear someone in her head telling her to get away. To get somewhere safe and to keep her fears to herself.

_Don’t tell anyone, don’t trust anyone. It’s not real._

Clarke shook off Raven’s hand and walked away, not looking at anything or anyone until she got home and had the door safely shut behind her.

Why was her heart beating as if she had just escaped something dangerous?

“What’s going on?” she asked the empty room as she settled into her favorite spot on the couch. “Why do you keep saying it’s not real?”

The man was there again, still wearing his blue shirt but he wore a leather jacket now, an unfamiliar gun slung over his back. He bent down and reached for her hand and it was almost as if she could feel the callouses on his fingers brush against her skin. If she closed her eyes it was almost real.

“Because it’s not princess,” and his voice was a murmur in the air and a vibration in her chest. “You’re being tricked.”

Tricked? She had her father, her friends, her life and it was all some kind of trick? She wanted to yell, to cry, to scream it wasn’t fair and why did have to be her. Who could be that cruel? Why couldn’t she just be happy? Just once, she wanted to be happy.

Why did it always have to be her?

“By who? Who did this to me?” she finally asked but before he answered he got up and paced away and still she could feel his hand on hers, like a phantom touch.

“You know what did this to you.”

She stood up to meet him in the middle of the room. “No, I don’t know who. The only thing I know is I’m going crazy and my delusion is telling me I’m being lied to. For all I know you’re telling the truth and you’re the lie.”

“I’ve never been a lie; I’ve always been the truth. I’m your truth, Clarke.”

He looked over to the door which led to her parents’ room where her mother kept a console for working from home. It would have the access she needed.

“Find the truth.”

Standing up she pushed her mother’s door open and turned on the console. Her fingers hovered over the keys, her hands shaking.

She didn’t know what she wanted to find. If he was real it made no sense, if he wasn’t she truly had gone mad.

Using her mother’s username and passcode she pulled up the Ark’s citizen manifest and clicked search, typing Bellamy before she could talk herself out of it.

Her heart sunk when the results came back with zero names and she was ready to admit she was truly crazy but befoe she did she noticed three words on the corner of the screen: _Two Inactive Results_

Clarke pressed her finger on the link and watched as a new screen loaded, two faces appearing. One was an old man who had died some twenty years ago, and the other was younger with dark hair and freckles.

Freckles she recognized.

Just to the right of his picture was his date of birth and the date of his death.

_Dead._

Glancing up to assure herself no one was sneaking up on her she selected his file and read over the words with something akin to dread. To fear.

_Convicted of Assisting an Illegal Birth and Harboring an Illegal Birth_

_Sentence: Floated_

How did she not remember this? It was less than a year ago according to the dates, it would have been the only thing people would have talked about but she couldn’t remember…anything.

Reading through the notes she learned at the age of six his mother had given birth to a second child, a girl named Octavia and for the next sixteen years they hid her beneath the floors until she was discovered.

Their mother had died a year before so it was the brother who was made an example of, floated for something which had happened when he was just a child.

She brushed her fingers over the image of his face, solemn and fierce and somehow so familiar it nearly made her smile. **“Bellamy.”**

**“I’m still here.”**

Clarke looked up but of course he wasn’t there anymore, he was just a voice in her head.

A voice who belonged to a man who had lived and died.

A man she somehow dreamed about even though they had never met.

“This isn’t possible.”

And yet somehow she knew, he was the answer to everything.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke is faced with the possibility the life she's lived-where everyone she knows is happy and alive--isn't even real, and when confronted with the choice of living a lie or going back to the truth she can't help but wonder if accepting the lie is the coward's way out or if she maybe finally deserves some peace

 

The morning after finding out Bellamy was more than a voice in her head and a person only she could see, Clarke decided in order to find the answers she needed to questions she didn’t have, the best place to go was the start.

Or, at the very least, Bellamy’s start.

After breakfast with her parents, Clarke made her way to one of the lower sections of the Ark. Octavia Blake lived far enough away from Alpha it was likely Clarke would never have met her if she hadn’t gone looking for the younger woman.

How odd, Clarke thought as she made her way down the hall, that there was a version of her life in which she didn’t know Octavia.

Clarke stopped walking.

_Wait, what?_

“Clarke!”

Turning, she saw Wells coming up behind her and Clarke wondered what he was doing here in this station neither of them belonged to.

“Funny running into you here.”

“Yeah,” she agreed and naturally reached out to hug him. She had flashes of tears and guilt and instead of pushing the foreign images away she dived into them. Whiskey on her tongue, yellow air, anger, relief, love.

She loved him, no matter what the truth was, this was her best friend and she was holding him in her arms again.

“Are you okay?” he asked carefully, studying her face.

“I’m great,” she promised because he was alive and smiling and if that was a lie it was a good one. “What are you doing down here?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“You could,” she smiled. “But I asked you first.”

He couldn’t quite meet her eyes and shuffled a little on his feet. “I’m, uh, here to see someone.”

“Someone or _someone_?” Clarke clarified with a grin.

“The second,” he confirmed looking bashful and adorably embarrassed. “I met her, well it doesn’t matter how, but I like her.”

Clarke smiled at having something normal to latch onto, and her best friend having a crush on a girl was about as normal as it could get. She grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the middle of the hallway so they weren’t obstructing the flow of people. “Who is it?”

“Her name’s Harper.”

“Harper?” she asked and the name niggled at her memory like so many other things had in the past 24 hours. Blonde hair, Clarke remembered, and a half smile which was always just this close to a smirk. “I don’t remember you ever meeting Harper.”

“What?”

Clarke blinked, sifted through her memories and realized she’d gotten the dream confused with the lie. Or maybe it was the other way around.

“Sorry,” she apologized to cover her own confusion. “I’m on my way to see a patient and I’m not all the way here.”

There was something off about the way he looked at her. His gaze was too intent, studying her face as if he was looking for something she was hiding. “Why don’t you come with me? You can meet Harper and maybe we can head to the game room or something.”

“No,” she shook her head because the look in his eyes had changed but the memory of it still made her uncomfortable. “Like I said, patient.”

“You don’t have your bag,” he pointed out.

She looked down at her hands, “It’s just a consult. A favor for someone.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing that can’t wait.”

“Maybe,” she admitted and because Wells looked suspicious she kept her face neutral. “But I promised and I’d hate to go back on my word. I’ll try to catch up with you later though?”

He looked like he wanted to argue and there was something about how insistent he was that she go with him which unsettled her. “Okay, if you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

She squeezed his hand and felt his eyes on her back as she walked down the corridor, trying to keep her pace steady even though she wanted to run. Once she turned the corner she took a deep breath and let herself falter for just a moment.

Her head hurt, her heart ached, and even though she didn’t know exactly what it was she was doing she understood she had to keep going. She wouldn’t find any peace otherwise and still when she finally found the door she was looking for, Clarke hesitated.

She hadn’t been thought about what she’d say once she got here, she’d been so sure if she let herself think about it all she’d talk herself out of meeting Octavia.

Now she was panicking even as she knocked on the metal door which opened with jerk and Clarke was briefly overwhelmed by the rush of emotions and seeing the freshly scrubbed girl with the waist long brown hair.

 _Warrior,_ Clarke thought while images of Octavia with a sword in her hand and grease paint over her eyes flashed through her mind. And it was a warrior standing in front of Clarke, because even though she was unarmed and her face was clean Octavia’s hipshot stance and angry glare was as powerfully intimidating as any war yell.

“What the fuck do you want?”

Clarke didn’t step back at Octavia’s anger, but she wanted to. “My name is-“

“I know who you are,” Octavia interrupted. “You’re Chancellor Griffin’s daughter.”

Jaha, Clarke mentally corrected, and clearly remembered it was her mother’s friend who was in charge, not her mother. On the ground though… “I came to ask you a question.”

Octavia sneered, turned around and headed back into her single unit but since she left the door open Clarke followed her inside and the shut the door behind her.

“I just wanted to ask you a question.”

“Sure, how about I ask one first?” the question was shot like a bullet. “Why did your mother kill my brother?”

Clarke didn’t flinch, but took the hit because it was the right thing to do. Even if some part of her knew her mother hadn’t done anything to Bellamy, this Octavia believed she had and if Clarke wanted anything out of her it was not to argue. “I don’t know, but it was wrong.”

Octavia narrowed her eyes as if she expected a trick. “Excuse me?”

“What happened to your brother was wrong, and terrible, and cruel and I’m sorry. He was just a boy protecting his sister and it shouldn’t have happened.”

“My sister. My responsibility.”

Clarke looked up and saw Bellamy standing behind his sister, his clothes were different now. Tan pants and a white shirt. His face so determined and terrified, like he was facing a hard decision which had only one answer.

She wanted to tell him everything would be okay, but she didn’t understand why.

“That doesn’t bring my brother back.”

Clarke brought her eyes back to the girl, but the man’s presence in the room was distracting, pulling at her. “I know. I just…”

“Had a question,” Octavia finished for her even though Clarke wasn’t a hundred percent that was what she was going to say. But nonetheless Octavia was right, she’d come here for a reason.

“What was he like?”

“What was who like?”

“Your brother.”

“He was,” Octavia stopped as if she had to think about it which surprised Clarke. Bellamy was her brother; wouldn’t she know what he was like? “He was reckless and stubborn. He had a problem with authority and-“

“No.”

Octavia looked surprised at Clarke’s interruption. “No?”

“I meant what was he _like_? Was he protective? Funny? What did he like to read? I mean, yes he was reckless and stubborn and sure he had a problem with authority but who wouldn’t after everything he’d been through? But that’s not who he was.”

“You don’t know him Clarke.”

It sounded like a reminder, but it was also wrong because he was standing not two feet away from her and she knew all the scars on his body because she’d bandaged most of them.

“He read classics,” Clarke remembered. “He named you, didn’t he?’

“Did he?” Octavia asked and she should have known that. Why didn’t she know that?

“Yeah, from a history book. Don’t you remember, Octavia?”

“It was a long time ago,” she evaded and when she reached for the door Clarke slammed it shut with her hand.

“It doesn’t matter how long ago it was,” Clarke argued. “You don’t forget something like that unless…Unless you didn’t know.”

She remembered Bellamy telling her about him naming Octavia. It had been after they’d found the bunker, after they’d saved each other from Dax. She and Bellamy had been leaning against the tree, leaning against each other, and while they waited for the adrenaline to fade she asked him questions about his mom, about Octavia.

He’d told her how he’d gotten to name her, six years old and reading about Augustus he’d come up with Octavia while holding his brand new baby sister in his arms. But she didn’t think it was common knowledge, he’d told her and likely no one else.

If this was her hallucination then Octavia would have known her brother named her, which meant these weren’t her memories, her thoughts generating this world she was in, it was A.L-

**“I’m back.”**

Clarke blinked, could feel the pressure of someone’s hand covering hers as Octavia and Bellamy’s image flickered out.

Bellamy.

Suddenly she knew Bellamy the image was the hallucination, but the voice in her head had been real. Had been him.

**“Raven says wherever you are, you feel safe.”**

There was a sharp pain in her head as the image Raven flashed in her mind, this version had braids in her ponytail and braces on her knees. She limped when she walked. There were other images, of Monty and Jasper keeping an angry distance between them, of Octavia in leather standing beside a man who towered over her but kept a gentle hand on her shoulder.

**“And I get the appeal, princess, I do. But you got to remember how nice it is here.”**

She wanted to smile at the dry voice, wished she could see him, but she couldn’t move from the place where she stood as the voice echoed through her bones.

**“Sure there’s guns and blood and mayhem but don’t forget sunlight on your face, going swimming. There’s fresh meat and rain and…And Clarke. We need you.”**

If she closed her eyes she could almost feel someone’s fingers combing through her hair at her temple. A gentle, comforting touch she wanted to lean into.

**“You’re a pain in my ass, but you’re also the strongest person I’ve ever met. The bravest. I don’t know who you are in the world you’ve made for yourself but I can guarantee you were meant for more. You were meant to be here, on the ground. It’s a hard life, and sometimes it’s cruel but sometimes it can beautiful.”**

She remembered the sound of water falling and breaking on rocks below, birds chirping, her friends laughing as they played drinking games while bonfires burned. Fluorescent woods which glowed in the night, dirt under her nails and sunburnt skin.

She remembered it and it had been beautiful.

**“I know life has given you a shit deal. Wells, Finn, Mountain Weather.”**

The pain hit her again, dropping her to knees with an almost overwhelming force. Wells dead on the ground, Finn strung up and bleeding, his blood still on her hands. She remembered Mount Weather and Bellamy’s hand closing over hers so she didn’t have to kill all those people alone.

She felt his hand now, a phantom when his hallucination was nowhere in sight.

 **“I know the reason you left was because you couldn’t live with what you’d been forced to do. Couldn’t forgive yourself, but that’s okay because I forgive you.”** She felt him press a kiss to her temple and she wondered if the tear she felt slide down her face was real.

**“Come back to me, Clarke. I need you.”**

The world glitched like a bad video feed and suddenly she wasn’t on the Ark in space anymore, she was outside of it on the ground.

Here was the sunlight she remembered from the dream, fresh air she breathed deep into her lungs and the whole world seemed bright and open and empty.

There should have been people everywhere. She vividly remembered this day, this moment. It was the morning after Anya had been shot and Raven had been outside when Clarke stepped out of the room she’d passed out in after getting grazed by a bullet. She’d hugged Raven, the Raven who limped on crutches and never fully healed.

And when she’d pulled back she’d seen-

“Me.”

Clarke looked to her left and saw Bellamy standing beside her. Dark pants, a gun held comfortably in his hands and he wore a guard’s jacket, but it was different than the one she’d first seen him in. This one fit him where the other had been too small and she realized he must have stolen it, but this one-this one had been given to him.

It was the jacket he’d worn when he’d come to Polis to save her.

“Are you here trying to save me again?”

He chuckled as he readjusted his grip on the gun. “I’m a figment of your imagination, Clarke. I’m here so you can save yourself.”

"What happened?"

"You stopped believing," he explained as if it was a simple enough answer.

There was an emptiness inside her chest as she finally accepted the truth and it chilled her to the bone. “So you were right, it wasn’t real.”

“It wasn’t me who said that.”

Right. He was a figment of her of imagination, something she’d conjured up.

“It could have been real,” she realized. Maybe Bellamy’s voice could have been ignored if it hadn’t been for his presence following her around. “Why couldn’t I have let it be real?”

“You’ve never taken the easy way out,” he reminded her. “You could have kept quiet about the oxygen on the Ark, but you didn’t. You could have let Bellamy take charge when it would have been easier to let him lead on his own, but you didn’t. Finn, the Mountain, you could have let someone else do those things.”

“But I didn’t.”

“You had a choice then, Clarke. You have a choice now.”

“What do you mean?”

The Bellamy that wasn’t Bellamy looked to his right and her eyes followed his gaze to see the gate. When she’d lived through this day she’d hugged Raven and had looked up to see Bellamy walk through those gates and she’d gone running to him.

It was not lost on her what it all meant.

Turning around meant going back to the illusion, to the place where her father was alive. And Wells and Finn and the rest of the hundred. Back to the place where she was not a murderer of hundreds and drenched in blood.

Even though she knew it wasn’t real she thought she could let it be, if only she walked back through the doorway and into the Ark.

But there was Bellamy walking through the gates, looking exhausted and brutalized with the cut on his cheek she knew was now on a scar in the real world.

In her world.

“It’s going to hurt.”

“Yes.”

“If I go back, would I know the difference? Would I know it wasn’t real?”

“No, if you go back to the Ark you’d never know anything different. It would be the only truth you’d ever know.”

Clarke looked back into the dark shadows of the Ark and wished she could be a coward. It should be easy, she thought, to go back to that life she could have had. Should have had.

But then she looked back at Bellamy walking into the compound looking ragged and exhausted. He shouldn’t have to do it alone and Hallucination-Bellamy was right.

She’d never taken the easy way out in the past and before she knew what she was doing she was running towards him. Arms pumping, legs straining, she launched herself at him, throwing her arms around his neck.

When his arms banded around her she woke up screaming.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bellamy looks at the bodies on the ground and thinks 'we've won' and even as the thought crosses his mind he knows he's jinxed himself because Clarke isn't waking up and according to Raven there's a chance she never will. It looks like A.L.I.E might have the last laugh after all

Bellamy took a deep breath when Marcus Kane stopped choking him and fell to the ground with a hard and painfully sounding thud.

“What the hell,” he rasped out as he looked around the room to see everyone who had been trying to kill them seconds ago was unconscious on the ground.

“Bellamy?” Raven’s voice chirped through the walkie at his hip. “Bellamy, are you there? What’s going on?”

Sitting up he unhooked the walkie and took a deep breath before depressing the talk button. “Yeah, I’m here. Everyone who took the chip is out.”

“Dead or alive?”

Looking at Marcus, Bellamy could see the rise and fall of the older man’s chest and after a quick glance around it looked like everyone in the vicinity was fairing the same. “Alive.”

“Can’t same the same for those who were climbing the walls,” Murphy added from his place by Ontari’s body near the balcony. He was looking down with a grim smirk and Bellamy could only imagine what had happened when the chip had knocked everyone out while they’d been scaling hundred story walls.

“Did it work?” he asked. “Did Clarke do it?”

“Yeah,” Raven answered and there was a happy, laughing sound in her voice. “Yeah, she did it.”

“Then why isn’t everyone waking up?”

Monty’s voice came through the speakers, “Raven’s checking.”

Bellamy stood up, clipping the walkie back on to his belt and surveyed the damage. They’d be hurting, all of them, when they woke up.

“Abby?” he asked, looking down at the blood which covered the floors. “We should probably set up some kind of triage, yeah?”

She stood by him and there was…not a comradery exactly, but Bellamy thought maybe Abby finally saw him as an ally, an equal, and not someone who had-in a desperate moment-shot Chancellor Thelonious Jaha.

Though seeing what Jaha had done to not only his own people but the Grounders as well, Bellamy kind of wished he hadn’t pulled his shot at the last moment.

“It’s a good idea,” she nodded. “There’s not enough room here.”

“There’s a bedroom down the hall,” Octavia cut in. “It’s massive. It might not fit everyone but it’ll fit more than we can in here.”

Bellamy nodded, “Show her, will you? Take Bryan and Miller, he’s needs to be looked at.”

“I’m fine.”

Ignoring him, Bellamy met Bryan’s gaze who nodded. “I’ll make sure he gets looked at.”

“It’s a reset.”

Bellamy glanced down at Raven’s voice coming through the speaker. “What’s a reset?”

“Why they’re knocked out. Remember on the Ark, when the system would update but needed to restart for it to activate? That’s what happening, they should wake up in a few hours.”

“Thanks,” he turned to Clarke whose head was still titled to the side in what appeared to be sleep. “I guess that applies to Clarke?” he asked Raven.

“No?” Raven answered and something cold shivered down Bellamy’s spine.

“Why did that sound like a question?”

“Because Clarke wasn’t under the chip’s control like everyone else was. She should have woken up immediately like I did when you took the chip out.”

“Well, she didn’t.”

“Okay, give me a minute.”

Bellamy looked down at Abby who was checking Marcus’ vitals and there was no way she hadn’t heard the conversation.

“She’ll be okay,” Bellamy promised.

Abby’s eyes looked over her shoulder to where Clarke was sitting in the throne.

“Can I stop pumping this heart, because not only is it gross but my hand’s cramping.”

“You can stop,” Abby nodded and Murphy released the heart with a grateful sound.

“Are you sure?” Bellamy asked as she stood up.

“As sure as I can be,” she sighed. “By now Clarke’s body should mostly be Nightblood, it’ll take a while for her blood to take her veins back.”

“Thank god,” Murphy muttered and ran over to where a Grounder girl Bellamy didn’t know was unconscious on the ground. The person he cared about, Bellamy guessed, his eyes sliding back to Clarke.

“You’ll take care of her?” Abby asked, her gaze having followed his.

“Yes.”

“Then I’ll start helping the people wounded,” she decided, and it sounded like she was trying to convince herself. “I think that’s what she’d want me to do.”

Bellamy’s mouth tilted in a kind of smile. “Yeah, probably. I’ll let you know as soon as there’s any changes.”

She reached out, placed a hand on his arm and squeezed once. Bellamy looked down at it, confused as to why the gesture could feel so familiar when he was pretty certain Abby had never touched him before.

“Come see me for the cuts,” she told him. “They could get infected.”

A mother’s touch, Bellamy realized dazedly. That’s why it had seemed familiar but hazy, it had been so long since he’d felt that kind of comfort.

“I don’t want Clarke yelling at me when she wakes up for not making sure you took care of yourself.”

Bellamy huffed out a laugh, “Yeah. I’ll come by after everyone else is taken care of.”

“Just like Clarke,” she murmured before turning to the boyfriends who were hovering near the door. “All right, let’s go see the room and what we’re working with.”

Octavia stepped out ahead them, presumably to show them the way but Murphy seemed content to sit on the floor next to the girl.

“Raven?”

There was a click and then some muffled cursing before Bellamy heard Monty’s voice, “She’s working on it.”

“Something’s wrong.” Bellamy glanced down at Murphy and appreciated he didn’t pretend like everything was okay. “Is she at least breathing?”

Walking over to where Clarke seemingly slept on like a bloody princess from a fairy tale gone awry Bellamy watched her chest move, almost imperceptibly. When he pressed his fingers to the inside of her wrist her pulse was faint and too slow to be healthy.

“Something’s wrong.”

“Who is there with you?” Raven’s voice asked.

“Murphy.”

There was a slight growl from Raven which Murphy just shrugged off. “That’s it?”

“Well, there’s like a half dozen unconscious bodies but if you’re wondering who is here and awake that’s it.”

“He’ll have to do. Hey, asshole, can you hear me?”

Murphy grinned, seemingly taking the insult as a compliment. “For you? Always,” he answered when Bellamy held the radio out in his direction.

Again, a muttering of curses, though this time Bellamy thought he could make out ‘fucking bastard’ and what must have been Harper’s voice in the background.

Bellamy pictured Monty holding the radio while Raven worked the keyboard, and Harper did what she did best, which was keep people calm.

“I’m going to tell you something and I need you to not do something stupid, and if you try something stupid it’s Murphy’s job to stop you."

“Yay.” Murphy cheered dryly.

“What stupid thing am I going to do?” Bellamy bit out, ignoring Murphy.

“I don’t know, but you’ll try something.”

“Just tell me what’s going on Raven.”

“It’s A.L.I.E,” she finally answered after a pause long enough to make Bellamy antsy as well as pissed.

“What’s A.L.I.E.? I thought she was deleted.”

“She is, but I think she figured out what Clarke was doing. If I’m reading this right, the AI tried to stop Clarke but as a back-up she plan she infected Clarke with a kind of virus.”

“She’s sick?”

“She’s dreaming,” Raven corrected. “And she won’t wake up.”

##############################

“I don’t get it," Octavia said after her brother finished talking.

Bellamy sighed, it had taken Raven explaining to him twice for him to understand and now that he did, he really wished he didn’t.

“The City of Light was the place without pain, right? But everyone knew they were in a kind of shared hallucination, it wasn’t real the way this is all real,” he gestured to the empty but bloody floors. “Clarke is in a hallucination, but she doesn’t know it’s not real.”

“Why?”

“To kill Clarke,” Murphy answered. “If Clarke doesn’t wake up she can’t drink, can’t eat, she’ll die of hunger and dehydration without having a clue it’s happening.”

“A.L.I.E.’s trying to kill her,” Octavia inferred. “That makes sense, but why can’t we just wake her up? Raven’s got the access right?”

“Raven’s got access to version one, not version two, which is the one still implanted in Clarke’s head.”

“So what do we do?”

Bellamy raised his hands and looked at them, empty and useless, before dropping them again. “Nothing.”

“We just took over an entire city with a taser and a handful of guns,” Octavia pointed out. “I think ‘nothing’ is a cop out. Can she hear us?”

“They can hear in the City of Light,” Murphy assured the Blakes and since he knew more than Bellamy did about the chips and the City he was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. “And you can hear what’s going on around you while you dream, right? You’re imagining yourself running and suddenly you start hear a beeping noise come out of nowhere.”

“An alarm,” Octavia realized. “It seeps into your dreams until you wake up.”

“Cause it doesn’t fit,” Murphy nodded. “We make enough noise, talk to her or whatever, she may start to realize her dream isn’t as real as she thinks it is.”

“What is it she’s dreaming of?” Octavia asked and Bellamy wondered if she realized they were currently holding their longest conversation in days.

“A place without pain,” Bellamy answered softly. “Raven thinks it’ll be a place where Clarke is happy and safe.”

“What’s she dreaming of, Bell?”

“Her family,” he shrugged when Octavia persisted. “Some place where her dad’s alive and Wells isn’t in the ground. Probably where she hasn’t killed hundreds or has blood on her hands. It’s what I’d want.”

Octavia blinks and he thinks she understands and for a moment they think of their mother and life they didn’t have.

She reaches out and takes his hand and it feels like the start of forgiveness.

“So talk to her,” she tells him. “If anyone can get through to her, Bell, it’s you.”

He walked back to the throne, they’d laid Clarke on the ground in front of it, knowing sitting the in chair with her neck bent awkwardly wasn’t good.

“She won’t fall for some fairytale,” Bellamy said but he wasn’t so sure because it wasn’t a fairytale, but safety. The hallucination would be woven out of her greatest regrets, her most painful heartaches so they no longer were. It would bring back the dead and erase the past, she’d feel safe and happy.

Bellamy reached down to Clarke’s wrist, wondered absently were her father’s watch was.

Her dad would be alive in her dreams, and probably Finn and Wells too.

He tried to think about what it would be like to be given everything he ever wanted, to have his mother with him again and Octavia to have never needed to hide beneath the floors.

He imagined Clarke being his in a way she never had been and knew if he’d been given all of that, even in a dream, he’d be a fool to throw it away.

“How much time?”

“She can go a week without food,” Octavia admitted. “Only days without water. You can put drops on her lips, and it might be enough to prolong her life but…”

“Don’t say it.”

“Then I won’t,” Octavia promised. “But you have to prepare yourself for it just the same.”

Bellamy sat on the steps beside Clarke, brushed his fingertips through the hair at her temple and prayed she could hear him.

**“It’s not real, Clarke.”**

“We should tell Abby,” Octavia said matter-of-factly as she looked down at Clarke.

“There’s no point, there’s nothing to tell her. She should keep her focus on the people she can help, the people who need her.”

Octavia scoffed and even though he couldn’t see her over his shoulder as he looked down at Clarke he could all but feel the walls being rebuilt between them.

“Nothing to tell her? How about ‘Hey, Dr. Griffin we think an AI infected your daughter’s brain and now she’s not going to wake up and may be dead by the end of the week.”

Bellamy stood up and turned on Octavia, his voice raising the closer he got to her. “No. We’re not going to think like that.”

Her eyes were hard and Bellamy knew the only person who could have gotten through to the heart of her had been turned to ash and dust. “If Clarke is going to-“

“She’s not!”

“She might!” Octavia shot back. “And if she does her mother has a right to say goodbye.”

“No one is saying goodbye.”

“If you don’t tell her by the time everyone else wakes up, then I will and I dare you to try and stop me.”

“O,” he started but couldn’t fight anymore, instead he all but melted back on to the steps, head in his hands. “I can’t. I just can’t think like that.”

“I know. That’s why I am. It’s too bad it’s not a fairytale,” she sighed and Bellamy sent her a questioning look. “Then you could just kiss her awake.”

Bellamy scoffed. “That only works when it’s true love, O. For both people.”

“I know,” she smiled sadly. “I’m going to tell Abby we don’t anything but we’re not going to worry unless she doesn’t wake up with everyone else.”

Bellamy nodded, shifting to lean on the steps by Clarke’s head and waited, and prayed, for her to wake up.

#############################

Three hours later, people were starting to wake up in the make shift med bay. Bryan and Miller had moved from helping Abby with the formerly chipped to trying to find a way back out of the tower they’d locked themselves into.

More fairy tales, Bellamy realized with a shake of his head as he reached out to close his hand over Clarke’s.

 **“Come back to me, Clarke.”** He pleaded like he had every fifteen minutes or so.

The sun was gone, the moon was full, and Clarke breathed on.

**“If you can hear me, squeeze my hand.”**

##############################

**“It’s not real, Clarke.”**

He felt like an idiot for repeating those words over and over but like Murphy had said about the alarm, it sometimes took a while to get through to the dream and wake you up but eventually it did.

Bellamy appreciated Murphy didn’t point out sometimes people slept through their alarms and instead brought him water and food and once, in a move which should have felt awkward but wasn’t, Murphy put his hand on his shoulder and squeezed one.

It was a show of solidarity from the last person he’d expected it from.

Abby had come in and checked Clarke’s vitals, told Bellamy she was alive and okay and he briefly felt bad about lying to her but there was no use giving her fear when there wasn’t anything to fear yet.

Clarke would come through, she always did.

**“Bellamy.”**

He nearly stood up, nearly tripped over his feet, before he moved closer to Clarke. She’d said his name, he’d heard it clear as day. He gripped her hand as hard as he dared, thinking maybe she could feel that touch through the dream. **“I’m still here.”**

“Bellamy? You said you’d rest.”

“She said my name,” Bellamy told Octavia without looking over his shoulder and after six hours of sitting there he knew he should be tired. Knew he _was_ tired but he couldn’t make himself get up. “I can’t go. She knows I’m here.”

Octavia brushed a hand down his hair, it was an absent gesture he didn’t think she'd realized she’d made. It made him want to smile because their mother had done it countless times before. “Then tell her you’ll be back. You’re no good to anyone if you’re as exhausted as she is. You need to eat.”

“She can’t.”

Bending at the knee she met her brother’s eyes, “It doesn’t work like that. Just because she can’t doesn’t mean you shouldn’t. She’s going to need you when she wakes up and she’s going to need you at full strength. We all are.”

“Fine,” he agreed but only because he couldn’t be certain he could keep his eyes open for much longer. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten more than a half hours’ worth of sleep at one time. He stood up and pressed a kiss to Octavia’s hairline, “I’ll be back soon.”

##############################

Three hours later Bellamy woke up in some quiet, dark room he’d found almost by accident and for a second he couldn’t remember where he was. Then the fight, the blood, and Clarke’s pale and silent form rushed back in a single memory and for a moment all he could do was sit in the quiet and try to rein in his emotions.

He couldn’t break down. Not yet, not today.

Making his way down the hall Murphy told him nearly everyone was awake, and Abby was starting to get worried Clarke hadn’t and Bellamy acknowledged the news with a nod. Octavia would tell Abby soon, if she hadn’t already, which was fine because he didn’t want to be the one to tell anyone Clarke wasn’t coming back.

Might not come back, he corrected himself.

When he entered the throne room Octavia was sitting beside Clarke, sharpening her sword and he wondered which of his sisters he’d get this time, the angry and resentful one or the quiet and caring one.

“She hasn’t said anything but her eyes have fluttered a couple times and her hand twitched,” Octavia reported as she stood up. “I’m going to get some sleep.”

Bellamy nodded and settled on to what he was considering his step next to Clarke and absently picked up her hand and held it between his. **“I’m back.”**

But she didn’t move, didn’t shift at the sound of his voice and he was terrified she’d already accepted the world she lived in. Decided it was better than where she’d come from.

Not that he could blame her.

 **“Raven says wherever you are in your head you feel safe. And I get the appeal, princess, I do. But you got to remember how nice it is here. Sure there’s guns and blood and mayhem but don’t forget sunlight on your face, going swimming. There’s fresh meat and rain and…”** _me,_ was what he was trying to say but even though she was in an unconscious, hallucinogenic state he still wasn’t quite brave enough to say it out loud.

**“And Clarke. We need you. You’re a pain in my ass, but you’re also the strongest person I’ve ever met. The bravest. I don’t know who you are in the world you’ve made for yourself but I can guarantee you were meant for more. You were meant to be here, on the ground. It’s a hard life, and sometimes it’s cruel but sometimes it can beautiful.**

**“I forgive you. Come back.”** He pressed a kiss to her cheek, remembered when she had done the same to him, and was surprised to feel a drop of water on his lips. Swiping his tongue across he tasted the salt of tears and wondered what had made her want to cry in a world which was supposed to be perfect.

 **“Come back to me, Clarke,”** he pleaded. **“I need you.”**

She gripped his hand suddenly and when she woke up, she woke up screaming.


	5. Chapter 5

# Chapter Five

 

“It’s okay Clarke. You’re okay.”

Her arms clutched around him so tightly he could barely breathe. “You’re real?”

Bellamy thought he understood why she was asking so he ran a hand down the length of her hair so she could feel him when he answered. “Yeah, I’m real.”

He could feel her nose burying into the curve of his neck, the length of her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt and the sobs rocking through her chest.

“Sshh,” he whispered into hair. “You’re back, it’s all right. Everything’s going to be all right.”

Abby and Octavia came barreling into the room and the fact they came in together gave Bellamy a pretty good indication about whether or not Octavia had told Abby what was really going on.

“You need to breathe,” he reminded Clarke as the other two women seemed only capable of staring. “Breathe, princess.”

She pulled in a shaky breath as he rubbed a hand in slow circles on her back, “Another.”

“Bell.”

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“I knew you were.”

“Clarke?” Abby asked, her voice hesitant and a little terrified.

Clarke pulled back only an inch or so, her arms still wrapped around him. “Mom?” Clarke asked, reaching one hand out to her mother.

Abby moved across the room and took Clarke’s hand. “They told me you weren’t waking up, that you might not.”

“I don’t…” Clarke’s voice was shaky and Bellamy put his hand under her hair at the nape her neck, squeezing once to give her a focus, an anchor. She held onto the shirt at his back as she shook her head. “I don’t know what happened.”

“Raven can explain it,” Bellamy murmured. “But you need water, you need to eat.”

Clarke looked up at him, eyes bleary and red from crying. “How long was it? How long was I gone?”

“Twelve hours,” Octavia answered sharply and Bellamy had no problem sending her a hard look.

“It was days,” Clarke argued softly, shaking her head. “It felt like days.”

“Come on,” Abby started, trying to get her daughter off the ground. “We’ll get you something to eat.”

Clarke nodded, but she didn’t seem aware of what she was agreeing to because when Abby pulled her far enough away Clarke was no longer touching him she panicked.

“Bellamy,” she almost sobbed, reaching for him.

Terrified, because he had never seen her like this, Bellamy got up and wrapped his arm around her waist. “I’m here, I’m not going anywhere.”

She looked up at him, and there so much grief on her face it nearly broke him. “They’re gone, right? They’re all gone.”

“I’m sorry, Clarke.”

She pressed her face into his shirt, and started crying.

Once again, Bellamy wrapped his arm around Clarke and looked the people who could do nothing but watch. He met Abby’s gaze, “I think the water will have to wait.”

Abby nodded and everyone left the room, giving the grieving woman and her anchor some space.

 

 

“I’m sorry,” Clarke whispered.

Ten minutes had passed and eventually the wrenching sobs had ceased. Bellamy had led her outside to the balcony, hoping the fresh air and the peace might somehow help. When she murmured her apology against his shoulder he raised a hand to rest on the crown of her head.

“You have nothing to be sorry for Clarke.”

She sat in the space between his bent legs, the weight of her body resting against his. “I fell apart.”

“You’re allowed,” he reminded her. “What you went through had to be nearly unbearable.”

“How do you know what I went through?”

“I’m a genius,” he told with a teasing smile. “Or rather, Raven is a genius and we all figured it out together. City of Light, A.L.I.E., it made sense.”

“It made sense she’d break my heart by giving me nearly everything I ever wanted?”

Bellamy started to nod but stopped. “Nearly everything?”

Clarke pulled back, her legs curled beneath her, and looked at him through red and teary eyes. Without thinking about it, he reached up to wipe the drying tears from her cheek. “I woke up on the Ark and everything was normal. Or at least it seemed like it was, except for some dream I’d had about running into someone’s arms.”

Their gazes held for a long moment, both of them remembering the moment she referred to.

“I said good morning to my dad.”

“Clarke,” he murmured, grief and regret in his voice and what she must be living through. When he cupped her face to give her some kind of comfort she leaned into the touch.

“I went to the med bay for my internship and I saw Jasper and Monty, kids I’d known my whole life. Or so I thought. I don’t know if I can ever explain to you how real it was.”

Bellamy wanted, but he didn’t dare ask about his alternate self. What part of the dream had he played? What had her dreams and her regrets molded him into? In a world where she was safe and happy and had everything she wanted, where did he fit?

“Raven and Wick were together, Monty was infatuated by Miller, and it all seemed so normal. But my dad, Wells, Finn, every time I saw them something didn’t sit right with me.”

“You were rejecting the hallucination,” he commented. “But you had everything, what could have possibly been missing?”

She reached up to wrap her fingers around his wrist, held on tight enough he wondered if she would leave a bruise. “You were dead, Bellamy.”

Well, that answered that. But he pushed aside the pain rocketing through him and tried for blasé. She didn’t need to worry about his heart when hers was still bruised and broken from losing all the people she’d loved again.

“You killed me?” he asked, trying to for humor. “I know I’m not your favorite person, princess-“

“It wasn’t me,” she corrected hastily, missing the joke. “The hallucination manipulated my relationships so they would make sense on the Ark. Raven and I stumbling into each other’s lives and becoming friends despite Finn, Octavia begrudgingly liking me despite who I am and who my family is. It made sense.”

Clarke linked her hand with his, looked down at their scarred and bloodied fingers. “She was never in my head, so the only point of reference she had for the two of us was what everyone else saw. My mom, Kane, Jasper, Raven, Jaha. And there was no way they could have known, truly understood, what this is.

“How was an AI who didn’t understand what it means to be human going to simplify who we are to each other? How was it going to explain how much we hated each other? How we went from being enemies to allies to friends to…” she seemed catch herself, stopping the words before they slipped from her lips and he’d have paid his soul to know what she was about to say.

“To people who depend on each other,” she finally finished and he knew those weren’t the words she’d almost let spill. “We don’t make sense, Bellamy. Not anywhere but here, on the ground, together. So you had to be erased. But it didn’t work.”

Clarke shifted so she rested her on knees facing Bellamy, her hand still clasping his between them. “I kept hearing you in my head. ‘Snap out of it, princess. It isn’t real.’ I’d see you standing in a crowded room, looking at me, staring me down, but no one else could see you.”

“You saw me.”

“I thought I was going crazy so I looked you up in the citizen index, this name that kept rattling around in my brain and wouldn’t go away, and it turned out you were real. You’d been floated for protecting your sister, but your picture came up and it was the same face of the man I’d been seeing and I couldn’t explain it. I couldn’t explain you.”

She looked down at their hands again, her thumb brushing across a knuckle long since broken and healed. “I wanted to stay, Bellamy. My dad was alive. Wells was alive. I could hug them and see them laugh and even though there was a part of me that knew it was wrong it was easy to pretend it was real and everything else had been a dream. I think I would have stayed there if it hadn’t been for you. Pain in the ass that you are, you wouldn’t go away, wouldn’t let me give up.”

It took a moment for Bellamy to find any words and because the ones he wanted to say were too big, too full of all the things he wasn’t sure she was ready for, he used other instead. “We weren’t sure you could hear us.”

“Hear you?”

“Snap out of it, princess. It isn’t real.”

There was a flash of recognition as she took in a sharp breath. “That was real?”

“Murphy’s idea,” he admitted with a shrug. “He thought there was a chance you could hear us and if you could, you might be able to find your way back so I kept trying to reach you, to tell you it wasn’t real and to come back. I didn’t think it worked because you didn’t wake up.”

She reached up with her free hand, brushed her fingers along his cheekbones, “I heard you, Bellamy. You saved me.”

It was Clarke who kissed him, which would Bellamy would admit was how he’d always know it should be.

Her lips pressed against his in a way which was almost sad, and he didn’t want that for himself or for Clarke.

Bellamy pulled back just an inch, and rested his forehead against her. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t come back. I’m in love with you Clarke.”

There were tears in her eyes again, and he’d regret them if there wasn’t happiness gleaming in those blue eyes he’d come to adore.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“I love you too, Bellamy.”

When they kissed this time they met in the middle, with a kind of sweetness which shouldn’t have been possible between two people with so much blood soaked into their souls but maybe this where they could find their hearts again, their light, and their laughter.

Here.

Together.


End file.
